


Straight Flush

by Somethingaboutmisha



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom!Cas, M/M, One night stand that could turn into more, Porn and some plot, This chapter is about 50/50 porn and plot, VegasAU, top!dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-06 18:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1110249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somethingaboutmisha/pseuds/Somethingaboutmisha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak hated his job. He hated the people he worked for. And he especially hated that he had to pack up and leave for conferences at a moments notice. This time, the conference on ‘how to spot insider trading on the NASDAQ’, was in Vegas, so at least there was some reprieve. No one would miss him if he didn’t go see some fat, balding man in an ill-fitting suit, drone on and on for an hour about stuff he didn’t give two fucks about. At least he got a free trip to Vegas out of it. The hotel his company had put him up at wasn’t one of the ritzy-est ones, but it was pretty close, and within walking distance from any number of distractions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I use a LOT of poker terms in this. In the note at the bottom, I will explain what they are, so never fear!
> 
> Also, The inspiration for this came from this tumblr post. http://keepcalmandtrustcastiel.tumblr.com/post/70224759930

            Castiel Novak hated his job. He hated the people he worked for. And he especially hated that he had to pack up and leave for conferences at a moments notice. This time, the conference on ‘how to spot insider trading on the NASDAQ’, was in Vegas, so at least there was some reprieve. No one would miss him if he didn’t go see some fat, balding man in an ill-fitting suit, drone on and on for an hour about stuff he didn’t give two fucks about. At least he got a free trip to Vegas out of it. The hotel his company had put him up at wasn’t one of the ritzy-est ones, but it was pretty close, and within walking distance from any number of distractions.

             He threw his bag down on the fluffy duvet covering the room’s double bed and loosened his tie. He put his head in his hands running his hands through his hair.  He’d come straight from work that day, catching a flight leaving JFK at 6pm and arriving at LAS shortly before 9pm.  
            Man he could use a drink.  
            The mini bar was fully stocked with tiny bottles of whiskey, vodka, gin and tequila. All priced at almost eight dollars a bottle. He made a face as he looked at the price list and shut the door. The conference didn’t start until tomorrow at noon, so he had enough of a gap between now and then to get a good buzz. Lord knows he needed it.  
            Leaving his slightly rumpled suit on and tie still askew, he grabbed the room key and slipped it into his pocket. It would be just his luck, he would go down to the bar, have a few too many and forget his key in the room, and he _really_ didn’t feel like sleeping in the hallway.  
            He glanced at his reflection in the mirror on the wall next to the door; His hair was a mess and he needed to shave, but whatever. It’s not like anyone knew him here. It’s not like anyone cares if he shaves or not. He slipped into the hallway and down to the elevator, thankful that he was the only one waiting for it. He stepped inside and leaned against the railing, pressing the button with the letter ‘G’ on it.  
            He avoided looking at himself in the reflective walls of the square box, instead opting to look up at the ceiling, wondering what would happen to him if the cable that held his insignificant life in its hands, snapped and he fell all those stories to the basement. Would that be an awful way to go? Or would the messed up forces at work render him unconscious before he hit the ground?  
            Before he could figure out the likelihood of each situation, the elevator dinged and the doors opened to a brightly lit lobby, complete with crimson plush carpeting, golden fixtures on the walls, and of course what could only be high-class prostitutes milling around. One woman spotted him come out of the elevator, and made her way over. She wasn’t completely unfortunate looking, but knowing what this woman did to earn her designer, slim fitting gown and blonde hair extensions really put him off. Besides, she wasn’t his type.  
            “Not interested.” He snapped gruffly to the woman, before she could even open her mouth.  
            “Asshole” She said under her breath as she walked away, looking for another lonely looking businessman to sink her Chlamydia riddled claws into.  
            Cas searched for the bar. The incessant bells and whistles from the lottery machines were going to slowly drive him insane.  
            Then he spotted it.  
            Something he didn’t know he wanted until he saw it.  
            Well, that and hard liquor.  
            Texas Hold’em.  
            Cas had grown up playing poker with his cousins on weekends; his older siblings teaching him what hand beat what, and how to bluff. He had gotten pretty good at it too. He still played sometimes, but nothing like he used to as a child and as a teenager. Come to think of it, he hadn’t played in years.  
            Making his way over to a server in a tight dress that left nothing to the imagination, he ordered a jack and coke and sat down at the first empty seat he saw.  
            “Buy in’s $250,” The dealer told him, not looking up from shuffling the deck for the next hand. “Ante is $5, and big blind is $25.”  
            Cas took out his wallet and grabbed the cash. Amazingly he had the $250 with him. He pushed the cash towards the dealer and received his chips. He pushed the $30 required bet to the pot and looked at the cards he’d been dealt. Ace 9. Not a bad hand, something he could work with.  
            The other players all checked or met the $30, so he checked, tapping two fingers on the red velvet of the table.  
            The flop came down Ace, Queen, 5.  
            Pretty good, he thought, high pair’s always a good place to start.  
            The gentleman beside him bet $20. Could be a bluff. But with high pair, he had a fighting shot to take this pot. It all depended on the turn and the river.  
            “Call.” He said, calmly and pushed his chips toward the dealer, and made eye contact with him.  
            The man was wearing a crimson bow tie, off white shirt, and a matching crimson waistcoat. His name tag read ‘Dean’. But the only thing Cas noticed was the man’s eyes. Holy fuck those eyes. Green as a summer afternoon.  
            “Sir?” ‘Dean’ said as Cas’ brain started up again. “Sir. It’s your bet.”  
            “A-All in.” Cas said, voice cracking. He pushed his stack of chips towards the pot of ante and blinds. The gentleman beside him turned white, then red. The woman diagonally across from him set her cards face down, obviously waiting for her turn to act so she could fold.  
            “Since this asshole decides to come to the table and throw his weight around, I’m going to have to call.” The gentleman spat at Cas.  
            “Hey buddy, if you’ve got the cards, you won’t have any problems calling me.” Cas retorted, impressing himself by remaining so calm.  
            “Gentlemen, flip your cards.” Dean said in a calm, professional voice.  
            Cas turned over his Ace 9, while the man turned over his 2 3. Both good hands for the flop. Cas needed another Ace, and preferably another 9 to get the full house. But the gentleman only needed a 4 for a straight.  
            Dean turned over the turn card, burning the card before it in the deck. A 9. Cas’ heart skipped a beat and he sipped his drink in order to hide his smile. Dean then took the burn card and slid it to the pile of burnt cards. He then flipped over the river.  
            An Ace.  
            A fucking Ace.  
            “Full House. Aces full of nines.”  
            “Fuck this shit,” the man beside him said as he grabbed his drink and left the table.  
            Cas stood up, and grabbed his chips to cash out. He was up at least $250. Time to call it quits.  
            Draining his drink, he pulled out his key card and wrote the number of his room on the napkin. Room 1248. He straightened his suit jacket and walked back to the table.  
            “I forgot to tip you, Dean.” He took a $50 chip from his winnings and passed it and the napkin to Dean.  
            “Thank you, Sir.”  
            What was he thinking?  
            What happens in Vegas.  
   
   
            Cas left the bar about 2 hours later after knocking back some liquid courage in the form of at least two Jack and coke, and a few beers. He couldn’t believe that he had given his room number to a man he had never met before. He didn’t know if he was into men, didn’t know if he was a homophobic jerk who was going to come up to his room and beat the shit out of him. This is living, he guessed.  
            He slowly got off the bar stool and made his way to the elevator, stumbling just a bit as he had a very good buzz on. This time in the elevator, he wasn’t lucky enough to get one to himself. He entered the box with the two other people who were waiting, one of whom he recognized as the hooker he had shot down earlier.  
            She took one look at him and sneered, chuckling to herself as she turned back to her john. Cas made sure to only watch the numbers above the door, as they indicated which floor they were on. He exited the elevator when the doors opened on the twelfth floor, not even waiting for them to fully open.  
            He pulled out the key to his room when he reached his door. It opened right away, which he was thankful for. He was too drunk to try and fight with a key card tonight. He pushed the door open and flopped down on the bed, closing his eyes for just a second.  
   
   
            Cas woke up to a sharp knock at his door. He rubbed his eyes and glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. 1:45 am. He groaned and went over to open the door.  
            There was Dean, still dressed in the bow tie and waistcoat. Still green eyed and sexy as fuck.  
            Dean raised an eyebrow at Cas and pushed passed him inside, grabbing Cas’ arm as he went and pulling him with him. Dean dragged Cas over to the bed and pushed him down on it. He lay there, taken aback as Dean looked him over, smirking as he gave Cas a once over.  
            Dean knelt on the bed, straddling Cas’ hips with his knees and leaned down over the other man’s torso. Cas moaned as Dean sucked at his neck. Yep, that’s definitely leaving a mark. Cas turned his head, giving Dean more room to mess around. Dean took one hand and slid it down to unbutton Cas’ jacket he was still wearing, deftly undoing the buttons with one hand and pulling the white dress shirt from his pants.  
            Cas turned his head as Dean broke away from his neck, catching Dean’s mouth with his own. The younger man moaned as their tongues met, searching each other’s mouths. Dean tasted like cigarette smoke and whiskey, and Cas loved it. His arms soon remembered they could move and slipped up to run through Dean’s short dirty blonde hair. Dean growled, he actually growled when Cas tugged slightly on his hair. Cas slipped his hands out of Dean’s hair (much to Dean’s chagrin, if the whine he heard was any giveaway) and down to his black pants. He had unbuckled Dean’s belt when Dean grabbed his wrist.  
            “Condom?” Dean asked, green eyes almost black with want.  
            “In my bag” Cas replied.  
            “Carry on then.” Dean said before going back to kiss Cas.  
            The older man’s hands returned to Dean’s waist and slipped the button free. He could feel the younger man’s erection when he did so, and was very pleased to find that Dean was very well endowed. He pulled the zipper down and reached inside. Dean let out a small whimper as Cas gave just the right amount of pressure to his aching hard cock.  
            Dean sat up abruptly and Cas looked at him with confusion which melted away when Dean reached down to undo Cas’ suit pants and give a quick palm to his cock. Cas reached up and started to unbutton Dean’s waistcoat, which he still had on. He sat up and pushed it off Dean’s broad shoulders, letting it fall to the bed behind them. Dean untied his bowtie and let it fall, nudging it off the bed with his sock covered toe.  
            Cas slowly undid Dean’s shirt like he was opening a present very carefully, giving little gasps as Dean reached down to stroke him through his boxer briefs. As Dean’s torso was uncovered, Cas’ eyes went directly to the scar on Dean’s shoulder, close to his chest. Cas reached up to touch it, but Dean batted him away, standing up to drop his black pants to the floor and pull off his socks. Revealing charcoal boxer briefs, and an obvious erection pleading to be released. Cas made a small noise in the back of his throat at the sight of the painfully sexy poker dealer.  
            Dean looked up at him with mischievous eyes, and pulled Cas’ pants down taking his shoes and socks with them. Cas went to take off his shirt and tie, but once again, Dean grabbed his wrist.  
            “Take the shirt off, leave the tie.” He growled. Cas was really starting to like that Dean was taking control. He loved giving up control and being manhandled by someone who wanted to manhandle.  
            Cas slowly unbuttoned his shirt, looking up at Dean with a demure look that, by the flush that came over the other man’s face and chest, he really enjoyed. Dean grabbed Cas by the tie and pulled him to a standing position.  
            “Get your lube. If you have condoms, you have lube.” He murmured as he reached a hand between Cas’ taught abdomen and the elastic waistband of his boxers, stroking the head of Cas’ cock with one finger. Cas grabbed his bag off the floor and grabbed a small bottle of lube and a few condoms and tossed them on the bed. He was so hard it was almost painful.  
            Dean removed his hand from Cas’ cock and spun him around, pushing him face first onto the bed.  
            “I don’t bottom,” Dean growled as he slowly lowered Cas’ boxers down over his ass. “Plus I’m pretty sure a classy guy like you has a dark side if he’s picking up poker dealers in a casino. Tell me, mystery man, you like to take it. Don’t you.”  
            Cas nearly came just from the sound of Dean’s voice, so different from when he was working, so professional and courteous. All ‘Yes Sir’, ‘No Sir’. Now the same man who had called him Sir a few short hours ago was lubing up a finger in order to get him ready to take his cock.  
            “Fuck YES!” Cas moaned in response to Dean’s question, pulling up his knees in order to lift his ass slightly off the bed.  
            “Look at you Mister business mogul, you probably make more in one day than I make in a week, and I have you begging for me to open you up, so you can take my cock.” Dean crooned as he pressed his index finger against the pink pucker of Cas’ entrance. Cas whimpered and pressed his hips backward, begging for Dean to breach his body.  
            “So eager, so eager for me to fuck you.”  
            “Oh god yes, Please! Hurry! Don’t worry about hurting me, just get me fucking ready!” Cas whined into the bed.  
            Dean whimpered in response to Cas’ urgency. He pressed one finger inside Cas as far as he could, crooking and thrusting before sliding another one in, this time scissoring them, making Cas a whimpering, writhing mess on the bed. And all of a sudden the fingers were gone. Cas made an indignant noise and whipped his head around in time to see Dean strip off his boxers and slide a condom on, then slick himself up with lube. Cas shuddered with excitement as he felt the bed behind him dip down lower.  
            Dean ran a hand up and down Cas’ back, and lined up. Cas closed his eyes tight. This was going to burn like a motherfucker.  
            Steady pressure.  
            First pressing, then pressing in.  
            It burned, oh fuck did it burn, but the burn was needed to offset all the pleasure, or else he would have come right then. He moaned as Dean became fully seated inside of him, taking a minute to adjust to the FULLNESS. Once he adjusted, he pushed back; just enough to tell Dean it was ok to move. Hands on his hips, restricting how far he could move.  
            “You don’t get to tell me how to fuck you. Tonight, you are mine!” Dean’s voice snarled behind him. Dean pulled out almost all the way and thrust back in with a snap of his hips. Cas saw stars.  
            “Oh fuck… Oh fuck…. Oh fuck…” He groaned in between Dean’s almost violent thrusts.  
            Dean’s warm body was draped across his back, breathing shallowly and snarling every now and then. When his thrusts became more shallow and irregular, Cas reached a hand behind him and up to Dean’s hair. When the younger man tensed up and started to twitch inside of him, he grabbed a handful and twisted. Dean let out the most guttural, animalistic groan and growl Cas had ever heard. It was all he needed, and he spurt white all over the duvet below him.  
            “Holy fuck” Dean said through heavy breathing after he pulled out and collapsed on the bed beside Cas.  
            “Holy fuck is right.” Cas said, agreeing with the younger man.  
            “So you know my name, but I don’t know yours.” Dean said with the mischievous twinkle in his eye again.  
            “Sorry, I’m Castiel Novak… just call me Cas… It’s nice to meet you?”  
            “Likewise Cas” Dean said, biting his bottom lip.


	2. Chapter 2

        Dean woke up around 4:30 in the morning. He hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep next to a man he had just met, and had the most amazing sex of his life with. Luckily, the bed was big enough that when he shifted to sit up, the other man, _Cas_ , didn’t wake up. Why had he exchanged pleasantries with a man he’ll never see again? Fuck only knows. Probably because it felt good at the time? He was always a sucker for _getting to know someone._

        He tiptoed over to the other side of the bed, keeping one eye on Cas and picking up his strewn clothes. What the hell had he been thinking? What if this guy had been some serial killer or some shit? Apparently, he wasn’t because Dean was still alive, but all the same, this had been a huge risk.

        He slipped on his boxers, shirt, and pants. Stopping only to pick up his waistcoat, bow tie (which he would now have to get Benny to retie for him, Damn it.) and socks. He shoved his feet into his shoes and slipping out into the hallway.

       Shit, did he go out the front where guests could see him? Or, did he go out the staff entrance where the people he worked with would see. And possibly his boss. His job was tenuous at best. He was told when he was offered this job that if he caused any shit, he would be out and people more frightening than the casino owner would hear about what he had done. There were other forces at work in Vegas and they were a lot less sympathetic to twenty two year, old poker prodigies who hustled other patrons out of money they would have been spending at the casino, than his boss. Dean had gone into this job knowing he was only there so he was on a leash, so they knew where he was and not scamming people out of money. That was the casino’s job.

       Deciding the best plan of escape was out the back (he could just say he had fallen asleep in the employee lounge if anyone questioned) He took the employee elevator down to the ground floor and marched purposefully to the door, avoiding the inquisitive glance of one of the busboys. Keiren? Or Kevin? Something like that.

       The air was a bit chilly when he went out into the parking lot. He should have brought his coat, but he was supposed to be out of here at 1:30, so he hadn’t thought to bring it. Grabbing the keys to his car out of his pocket, he checked the paint job for dings before opening the drivers side door. He threw the part of the uniform he hadn’t put on, onto the passengers seat and pulled out a pack of Belmont's, grabbed one and lit it up. He shouldn’t be smoking, as he’d been trying to quit. But after a night like that, he needed a whole pack and at least a fifth of Jack.

       After turning the key in the big black car’s ignition, he pulled out of the parking lot and pulling out in traffic, he let himself relax. Driving was his alone time. He lived in a tiny two bedroom apartment, in a not-so-well-off neighborhood, with one of the bartenders at the bar in the hotel. Benny had needed a roommate, and Dean needed a place to crash. Perfect fit. He had worried a bit when he told Benny he was gay, not knowing how the burly Louisiana  born guy would take it. Benny hadn’t cared and just told him that that meant there was ‘more pussy for him’.

        Dean parked the car in one of the two parking spaces as the sun was beginning to making an appearance, a slight shade of pink just peaking out over the horizon. After pulling on the last drag of his cigarette, he ground down the butt into the dirt with his toe and opened the door to the apartment.

       Benny was already sitting at the table, eating a bowl of cereal and looking at his phone.

       “You’re up early” Dean said as he toes off his shoes.

      “You’re home late” Benny retorted, not looking up from the text he was writing.

       “I fell asleep in the employee lounge.” Dean lied, grabbing a slice of bread and spreading some butter on it. “Rough shift, people see what hands they wanna see. Not what’s right in fucking front of them.”

       “And that, brother, is why I mix drinks. People don’t argue with the guy getting them hammered.” Benny mumbled through a mouthful of Honey Nut Cheerios.

       “Maybe I need to come bar-tend with you.” Dean said in jest.

       “You stick with what you know, man. I’ll stick with what I know. Anyway, I gotta head in. Early birds gotta have their mimosas.” Benny grabbed the keys to his beat up Ford Escort and head out the door before Dean could even say bye. He didn’t take it personally, Benny was not a morning person.

       His bed was definitely calling to him. He had another shift tonight, same as last night. 7pm to 1:30am. He didn’t love that shift, but he didn’t hate it. By 10pm, all the newbie players were gone and the people who knew their shit were playing. Like Cas. Cas knew his shit. The guy’s face was as cool as a cucumber, even when he knew it could go either way, he just let it happen. Unlike that other guy. He was a regular who liked to think he was king shit.

       Dean grabbed his glass pipe and a bag of weed off the table in the living room, (Better known as the room where Benny and Dean get high and play Xbox on their days off) and headed to his room. he didn’t normally smoke during the week, but he was gonna have a rough time sleeping with visions of a random hook up dancing through his head the night before.

      The good thing about rooming with Benny, is that the guy always got awesome weed. Barely burned your throat, and got you nice and mellow. He packed the pipe and grabbed his lighter. Lighting in a circular pattern, he drew in a slow deep breath and held it for a few seconds. The hotel never drugged tested, if they did, they would lose at least 75% of their staff, so he was safe to get high. He exhaled and relaxed into the mattress and box spring he slept on. He wondered what Cas was doing. Probably still asleep, it’s only a little before 6 and he had looked pretty haggard the night before.

       After a few more hits, he started to feel the floaty, giggly feeling of his high come over him. He tapped the pipe clean, stripped down to his boxers and crawled under the covers. The fact that he was high made it easier to think about last night with no regrets. Fuck that had been hot. They had worked together seamlessly, Dean taking control, and Cas giving it up. Fuck. Just... fuck. Dean slowly drifted off into sleep to dream about black hair, blue eyes, and a tie.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


       Cas woke up with a headache. Not the worst hangover he’d ever had. That award goes to Christmas of 2002, when Gabriel had poured an entire pint of rum into the eggnog. Cas hadn't  known! He just knew it made him feel warm. Now, he couldn’t even look at eggnog without feeling sick.

       He stumbled to the bathroom to grab a drink of water when he remembered.

       Jesus Christ.

       That guy... Dean... had just been a child.

       He couldn’t be more than twenty three? Twenty four?

       Cas had been drunk, well... Not drunk when he gave him his room number.

       Not that he’s old. Thirty isn’t old by any stretch of the imagination, but it felt a lot older than what Dean must be. But holy god was he incredible. He hadn’t come like that in years. Not since he was first discovering the joys of sex as a teenager. Oh god. He had lost his virginity before Dean had even turned double digits. He couldn’t think about that now. He was here for a reason, even though he could think of a billion other things he would rather be doing, he still had to do what he was paid to do.

       An hour later, Cas found himself between a very frightening woman in a power suit and hair pulled up into a tight bun, and a large, sweaty man whose tie seemed to be cutting off the circulation to his face if the colour of it was any indication. Cas had the recording app on his phone open and was recording the presentation. His bosses usually sent him to these things so they didn’t have to go, he would just record the presentation and email it to them after.

       The speaker droned on and on and Cas found his mind wandering back to the night before. Dean’s hands firm on his skin, his fingers stretching him open, pounding into him over and over and...

       Chairs were moving.

       Apparently day dreaming about a one night stand with a poker dealer he hadn’t spoken to outside a poker game until he asked if Cas had a condom, will make boring ass presentations go by in a flash. Good to know.

       Jesus Christ! What was he doing? Stop thinking about him. You had your fun, time to go back to reality.

       What if Dean was thinking about him too? Cas scoffed at the thought as he turned off the recording app and stuffed his phone into his pocket. Dean was smoking hot. He could have any guy (or girl) in the joint. Cas was sure he wasn’t high on the priority level.

       He stepped into the bar and hopped up on a bar stool. Was 1pm too early for hard stuff? Huh, probably. He ordered a beer and stared into the amber liquid, frothy at the top.  He should probably make an appointment with his doctor when he got home to New York. Just to be safe. Dean had worn a condom, but you can never be too careful. He sipped the beer slowly until it was too warm to drink, leaving the half drunk brew on the counter. He paid his tab and grabbed his suit jacket, heading towards the elevators and his room. Fuck the other presentations, Naomi would just have to deal with looking them up on youtube.

       His room was cold and uninviting. A shower would make him feel better. A shower and a shave. In case he decided he needed poker again tonight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


     Dean woke up around 5pm. His shift started at 7pm, so he still had a bit of time to get ready and presentable. You know, in case a certain someone decided to play poker again that night.

     He grabbed a towel out of the clean laundry basket and stumbled into the tiny bathroom. Benny had long since been home and asleep, but he had left a huge mess in his wake.

     Dean stripped out of his boxers and turned, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

     His scar. Cas had noticed it.

     His father had given it to him when he left home. Guy was an asshole and a drunk. But Dean hadn’t picked the best time to come out to him. Dad had gotten enough of a buzz on that he wasn’t thinking clearly. Telling your father you’re gay when he had a pocket knife in his pocket and enough of a buzz to make him violent, not the nest idea he’d ever had. Dean had stitched himself up, but the scar was a reminder of how much of a disappointment he was to his father.

     Shaking his head, he turned the shower on. He’d have to hurry, Traffic was going to be a bitch and he hated being late.

     After a quick shower and grabbing something to eat, Dean was out the door again.  He had thought about getting high before heading off, but he didn’t like to drive his baby after smoking weed, too many variables that could go wrong.

     Traffic was a bitch and he arrived with about 5 minutes to spare.

     “Cuttin' it close Winchester” Chided Ruby, a waitress.

     “Traffic was an asshole today” Dean shot back. He hadn’t really liked her ever since Sam had come to visit on spring break and she’d gotten him drunk and took him home. The kid was 18 and thought he was ten foot tall and bulletproof. Not that the Sasquatch couldn’t pass for ten foot, he’d been taller than Dean since Sam was 16 and Dean was 20.

     “So when’s your baby brother coming back to visit?” Ruby asked with a glint in her eye.

     “Not any time soon, and you would be the last person to know about it.” Dean quipped. She really would be the last person to know about that.

      Dean shoved his coat in the closet in the staff lounge before walking out to the floor to relieve the dealer on before him. He couldn't help but think about what would happen if Cas showed up again. Would he invite Dean up to his room again? The way the guy moaned when Dean slammed into him again and again made him think the possibility of a repeat performance was pretty high up there.

     The floor was a mixture of elderly people finishing up their gambling experience for the day and people just starting out. There were more women dressed up in short dresses hanging off the arm of men in well fitting suits than there were old men in Hawaiian shirts and khaki shorts.

    He reached his table and took over for Ash. He introduced himself professionally to the players and started the next hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


     Cas sat at the same bar stool he had sat at the night before, nursing a Guinness. The conference had run long and, to be honest,he had been buzzed for a good portion of it.

     It had worn off a few hours ago. The feeling of his skin crawling came back as the buzz wore off and the Guinness just wasn't getting him the drunk he needed to not feel like he was a huge creep for fucking that... kid. Dean was a teenager when Castiel had started working for Naomi. Jesus. Fuck he just needed a shot. Of... Something.

     He wasn't going to see him again.

     He could though.

     What if he's working tonight?

     Castiel beckoned over to the slight bartender.

     “What can I get ya man?” The bartender asked.

     “A shot... of something. I don't care.” He replied, glancing toward the entrance to the poker tables.

     “Sure thing man.” The bartender said as he grabbed a shot glass and the bottle of tequila. He set the pale gold liquid and wedge of lemon down in front of Castiel and watched as Cas licked a spot of salt off his hand. Cas grimaced as he tipped the liquor down his throat and bit down on the lemon.

      “Thanks. I needed that.” He said as he stood up and set some cash down to pay for his drinks before heading towards the poker tables.

       Dean was easy to spot. He was a head taller than the majority of the dealers. Cas made a beeline for him.

       Dean was just about to give the speech about the buy ins, blinds and ante when he looked up at the newcomer to the table.

       “Hello, Dean.”


	3. Chapter 3

     Dean froze.

     Cas was sitting at his table.

     Again.

     “Uh, buy in is the same. $250.” He stammered. Mentally kicking his own ass for letting the surprise get the better of him.

     Cas eyed him as he sat down and waited for the next hand.

     You can't let this guy get to you Dean thought as he fought to keep his composure. One night stand. He's a guest, nothing more. He laughed inwardly. Who was he kidding?   The guy was smoking hot, leaving at some point, and the best fucking lay Dean had ever had. Ever.

     Dean finished up the last hand and dealt the cards out to the players once again, this time dealing in Cas.

     As Dean had expected, Cas won the next few hands he played. Straight there, flush here, until he had almost all of the other players chips. Dean looked in amazement as the dark haired, blue eyed man had taken the remaining chips.

     The other players left the table in a huff, obviously upset by the whirlwind asskicking they had just received.

     “Guess it's time to call it a night.” Cas mumbled under his breath.

     “Wait!” Dean called after him as Cas started to walk away, stopping him in his tracks.

     “Yes... Dean...?” Cas asked, as his legs (without him consciously willing them to) carried him back to the table.

     “You don't have to go.” Dean said, green eyes flashing mischievously. “You know, you could just hang out...”

     “With you? While you are working?”

     “Yeah, and I'm not doing anything... You don't have to.” Dean's face changed from mischievous to shy and unsure. Definitely a different look than Cas was used to seeing on him. Cas sat down in the same spot he had while playing.

     “Something has been bugging me, Dean.” Cas blurted out, surprising himself with how directly to the point he got.

     “Shoot.” Dean said, mask of mischievousness sliding back over his handsome face.

     “Uh... How... How old are you?” Cas stuttered.

     “Twenty Two” Dean replied, noticing the influx of people now coming onto the floor. “Listen, I'd like to see you again, but I can't really be spending the night in your room... makes for an awkward exit. Meet me at the bar at 1:30... I've got an apartment.” he said as a new group of players sat down. Cas gave a small smile, nodded, grabbed his drink, and walked away.

     Twenty two. He thought, Twenty two. That's not bad. Lots of people are with people much further apart in age. He smiled to himself and let go of all the tension he had been holding in his muscles since the first time he and Dean had fucked. He glanced back at the table where Dean stood dealing out cards and smiling professionally at the players at his table. Dean must have felt Cas' eyes boring into him because he looked up and winked. Cas blushed and scuttled up to his room (avoiding more hookers in the lobby), to try and get some sleep before he met Dean in the bar.

  
  


     Dean was sitting at one of the bar stools, sipping on the dregs of his beer when Cas found him. Dean's smirk met him before he was half way through the room.

     “You look good like that.” Dean said as he ran his fingers along the hem of the hoodie Cas had thrown on after waking up. After being in a suit for almost two days straight, he really hadn't wanted to put another one back on. So he had opted for worn jeans, an old tee shirt from a marathon he had run years ago and a black hoodie.

     Cas blushed, feeling slightly under-dressed for the bar he was currently standing in.

     “Uh, thanks?” He replied. “So do you?”

     “Ha, In my uniform? I guess I get paid for looking good in it. Brings people to my table, I guess. My car's out back.” He said over his shoulder while walking down a small hallway next to the bar. There better not be anyone down here, he could get in so much shit for bringing a guest down here. Who gave a fuck? He was gonna get laid.

     “This is me.” Dean said as he opened the door into the parking lot and pointed at the impala.

     “Shit, nice car. What is she? A '66?” Cas asked.

     “A '67,” Dean replied “She was my Dad's. Until I left. I put more money into that car than he ever did, I said fuck it and took her when I took off. .”

     “Oh... I'm sorry.” Cas said, digging his toe in the gravel of the parking lot.

     “It's cool. I'm over it.” Dean said, checking the car for dings as he usually did. “Here, get in.”

     Cas slid in the car through the door Dean had opened for him. His jeans slid on the smooth leather of the seat. Dean walked around to the drivers side and got in. Turning the engine on, he reached for the pack of smokes he kept in the glove compartment.

     “You don't mind do you?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

     “N-no, not at all.” Cas answered, voice cracking. He hoped to god that Dean hadn't noticed.

     He had.

 

     “Channelling your inner teenager, Cas?” He said with a sly smile. Cas blushed and shot him a look.

     “No.” He said, picking at one of his cuticles.

     “God, you're so cute when you're mad.” Dean muttered and pulled out of the parking lot.

 

     The drive to Dean's apartment was filled with Dean's voice singing along to Led Zepplin. Cas smiled, Dean may be only twenty two, but he had damn good taste in music.

When they finally pulled into the parking lot outside Dean's building, Dean turned to him.

     “I'm sorry... it's not much...” He said sheepishly.

     “I'm sure anything you have is ok, Dean.”

 

     Dean was right. It wasn't much, but Cas wasn't bothered. The tiny apartment felt more homey and welcoming than his condo back home in New York. When the door opened into the kitchen, Cas was impressed by the lack of dishes and general mess in the room.

     “You say two bachelors live here?” Cas asked, raising one eyebrow.

     “Ha, yeah. I'm generally the clean one, Benny leaves a trail of mess in his wake.”

     “Benny's your roommate?”

     “Yeah. He's probably asleep right now, he had an early morning shift today. Do you want a beer or anything?”

     “No thanks, I'm good.” He said, looking around into the living room just off the kitchen. Suddenly, he felt Dean's muscular arms around his waist, and his mouth sucking a bruise into his neck. Cas groaned and let his head fall back into Dean's shoulder. Holy fuck, how could this guy get him instantly hard with just his lips on his neck?

     Dean nipped lightly on the skin there and it was all over.

     Cas turned and caught Dean's mouth with his own, licking throughout, and catching the little moans coming from Cas.

     Dean laughed quietly through the kiss. He had never been with anyone as responsive as this man.

     This would be fun.

 

     “Shit, Dean.” Cas said breathlessly after Dean rolled off of him. “Best. Sex. Ever.”

     Dean scoffed and threw an arm over his eyes, leaving his grin visible below it.

     “Yeah,” Dean sighed, “That was pretty fucking good.”

     Leaning over the side of the bed, Dean grabbed the ziploc baggie of weed and his pipe. No time like after sex to get high he thought, packing the bowl.

     Pushing himself into a sitting position, and taking a puff, Dean offered the pipe and lighter to Cas.

     “You want?” Dean said through watering eyes.

     It had been years since Cas had gotten high, and the last time had made the world spin too fast and made him paranoid. But what the hell, might as well. He took the pipe from Dean's fingers and held it to his lips. He flicked the lighter on, lit the bowl and inhaled.

     The earthy smell reminded him of college (and his older brother's bedrooms for that matter, Luc, Gabe and Raph had been certified potheads.) His lungs burned with the acrid smoke filling them as he held it in. It may have been a while since he had gotten high, but he knew how. When his lungs screamed for oxygen, he finally exhaled, blowing out a stream of whitish smoke before coughing.

     “First time?” Dean laughed.

     “No, Just been a long time.” Cas replied through coughing fits. “A few of my older brothers smoked a bunch of weed when we all lived at home. Luckily, my parents did too so they didn't have to hide it very hard. In any other family, they would have been considered the black sheep. When in fact, it was the two children who didn't smoke or drink heavily who were considered outsiders. Myself and my oldest brother Michael.”

     “Shit man, I would have killed to have lived in your family.” Dean scoffed, “My Dad was ex marine so he kept me and my kid brothers on pretty tight leashes... when he wasn't piss drunk. I guess the tight leash thing worked for Sam and Adam, but not for me. Just made me want to act out more. Which I did on a regular basis.” He raised the pipe to his lips again and took another long toke.

     “Sammy's the smart one. He's gonna be a lawyer one day, kid's going to Stanford in the fall. Full ride. Adam always said he wanted to follow dad and join the marines, fuck knows he'll do it too. He's more like dad than Sam or me. Dad wanted me to enlist too, but when I told him I like dick, that went out the window.”

The vibrations of Dean's phone on the floor next to the bed startled them both. Dean groaned in annoyance as he leaned down to pick it up.

     “Winchester.”

 _“Hello Dean,”_ a smug female voice said from the phone tucked up against Dean's ear. _“I see you have been keeping yourself busy. But not quite staying out of trouble.”_

“What do you want Naomi?” Dean replied, coldly. At the mention of his boss's name, Cas snapped to attention. What the hell was she doing calling Dean? How the fuck did she know him?

_“I just wanted to let you know that you were, in fact, spotted leaving a certain guest's room early this morning. That busboy you saw, let it slip that a certain poker dealer was sneaking down the hallway of the twelfth floor around four thirty am. As you are well aware, I own a fair bit of stock in the establishment you work for, and might I add, I am the one who sent Novak to this conference in the first place. If I had known he would have been such a... distraction... I would have sent someone different. You know you are only employed so you can be kept in check, I suggest you leave Castiel alone. Or do I have to involve Alistair? For your sake, I hope I do not.”_

Dean's face went ashen at the mention of that name. “I... I understand...” He stammered, voice thick with fear.

_“Good. Tell Novak I want those recordings in my email by tomorrow, or when he returns to New York, there will be no job for him to come back to.”_

Before Dean could stammer out another word, the line went dead.

“Cas?”

“Yes?”

“I think you better go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the part where emotions are gonna start getting involved, and where the plot is gonna start being established.  
> thank you all for bearing with me while my life went haywire and I had 0 time to write. hopefully I can get one or two more chapters of this posted in February.


	4. Not a new chapter

Hey guys,   
I've been super busy with work and school and exams that this has gotten pushed to the side of the "Stuff Emily has to do" Pile. 

BUT

I am finished exams on the 23rd and I don't have class again until May 26th. 

So I will try and get a couple of chapters out before I start Intersession on the 26th (of May)

I make no promises, but I will have A LOT more time to write.

Thank you to all the people who are still subscribed, and I hope you understand that I haven't forgotten about SF, just REALLY busy being a student. 

Thanks!

Emily (aka Somethingaboutmisha)

**Author's Note:**

>  **Buy in:** The amount of money you need to play the game. Like the price of the game.  
>  **Ante** : a small bet everyone must put in the pot when a hand starts.  
>  **Pot:** The amount of money to be won in a certain hand  
>  **Big Blind:** A mandatory bet one person must play at the beginning of the hand.  
>  **Small Blind:** Like the big blind, (paid by another person) at the beginning of the hand. Usually about half of the big blind  
>  **Flop** The first three cards the dealer puts down  
>  **Burn Cards** before the dealer puts down a card from the deck, they take the card on the top of the pile and set it aside. This is a burnt card  
>  **Turn** The fourth card the dealer puts down. after the players have made their wagers on the flop.  
>  **River** The fifth card the dealer puts down. after players have bet on the turn.  
>  **Check** If there is no bet that the player has to call, They can check. Or Pass.  
>  **Full House** Not just a show with bob saget. Three of a kind _AND_ a pair. Cas had Three Aces, and a pair of 9's.  
>  **Straight** five cards in a row. The other player could have had A,2,3,4,5.  
>  If you are still confused, Wikipedia can explain http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Texas_hold_%27em


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